


Make Your Move

by BananaStickers



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Mild Smut, Pining, boys being emotional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 22:31:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18291542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BananaStickers/pseuds/BananaStickers
Summary: In retrospect, Mat shouldn't have been surprised to find out that Pierre-Luc Dubois is in love with Tito, too.  Tito's special, after all.But then again, finding out you're one third of some weird quasi love triangle is always a little surprising, isn't it?





	Make Your Move

**Author's Note:**

> [This incident](https://twitter.com/MSGNetworks/status/1110691027126534149?s=20) is what inspired me. This is just a quick ficlet, although I feel like a Barzy/PL/Tito love triangle is pretty underrated and could use a good full-length fic by someone! (Maybe you?)
> 
> Tito really does love both these boys. His Insta is basically Mat and PL:
> 
> [Tito/Barzy](https://www.instagram.com/p/BkRZFsiHiMr/)
> 
> [Tito/PL](https://www.instagram.com/p/BmrOUEaHT7n/)

Mat first notices Pierre-Luc because he’s all over Tito’s Insta that summer, clutching a red Solo cup on a boat or grinning in a charity game or posing together in some foreign country. Mostly he’s on Tito’s Insta to see _Tito,_ not anybody else, but PL is hard to ignore with his curls and soft smiles and pale, pale skin. Mat might be in love with Tito, but he’s got _eyes._

He doesn’t usually hook up on the road, and especially not with other players, but it’s late March and he’s already slightly worn down from the grind. Making the All-Star Game means he missed a long-awaited vacation, and Mat’s definitely not gonna bitch about getting to play with Sidney fucking Crosby, but he’s a lot more tired this season than he was last year at this time. And assuming the team doesn’t epically collapse, the real grind has just started, which means…

Look, Mat could use a break, and getting his dick sucked sounds like just the thing. He and Tito have been hooking up on and off most of the season, but it’s just been casual, bros getting off together sort of thing, and it’s starting to become a problem for Mat. Because every time he sees Tito’s just-got-off face, that goofy smile with a lot of teeth and just the barest hint of red on his cheeks, he wants to blurt out _I love you man_ and that would be dumb. The stupidest thing he can do, probably, especially right now before they hit the playoffs.

So he shouldn’t hook up with Tito again. But he still wants to get off.

It’s Tito, of all people, who suggests PL. “You guys should meet,” he enthuses. “I’d love my best buds to get to know each other.”

Tito doesn’t seem phased when Mat insinuates he was keeping the evening free to pick up. “PL would be down for that, I think,” he says. “Like he’s more into girls than guys, but y’know, you’re so pretty anyway I don’t think it matters.”

He’s teasing, and Mat should be annoyed or upset about being called _pretty,_ but he’s not. If anything, it brings a blush to his face, because he’s absolutely fucked.

Mat almost doesn’t reach out to PL, but they have a free night in Columbus and unless he wants to visit the corn field he saw when landing, there isn’t fuck-all to do here, and the idea of getting off in the shower by himself sounds extremely shitty. So he texts, and they chat, and the next thing he knows he’s in an Uber over to PL’s place in a carefully-curated outfit, something casual enough to show this hook up is _no big deal_ but also something that makes him look good and not sloppy.

PL has that look down fuckin’ pat when he answers the door, that same soft smile from Tito’s Insta now live and in front of his face. “So you’re friends with Tito,” Mat says by way of hello, ignoring PL’s startled look at his abrupt greeting as he steps aside to let him in.

“Oh, uh - yeah,” he says. “I think it’s cool Tito wanted us to meet. Like maybe we can all go on vacay together this summer or something.”

“Maybe,” Mat says, remembering very well that all of those vacation pictures included PL but not him.

“So like maybe we can get to know each other a little better.”

Mat tilts his head, eyebrows raised. “Well you wanna fuck first?”

PL giggles - like actually _giggles_ , mouth splitting wide, eyes crinkling in amusement - and nods. “That’s kind of what I meant. So uh, do you like…”

“Top,” Mat says immediately, which isn’t exactly true, at least not exclusively true. He loves being under Tito, wrapping his legs around Tito’s waist as they rock together, listening to him talk dirty in French, which he tries to mimic but then Tito laughs and makes fun of his accent. Or sometimes Tito’s rough, pinning Mat to the bed and fucking in hard, and that’s good too. It’s all good with Tito.

PL shrugs. “Okay,” he says, sweet and easy, just like that.

He’s one of those guys that likes to kiss - _Tito can make out all night long, kissing until he runs out of spit_ \- but Mat didn’t really come for makeouts. The soft press of his lips, the slightly too-sloppy tongue, the little noises he makes in the back of his throat all remind Mat entirely too much of Tito, so he pulls away and gives PL a nudge towards what he’s pretty sure is the bedroom.

They shed clothes on their way there, and Mat drops PL to his knees with a look. For someone who’s ‘more into girls’ he sure is enthusiastic about a dick in his mouth, and Mat keeps him there, fists tangled in his curls as he pumps his hips and listens to the obscene wet choking sounds coming from him. _“Merde,”_ PL hacks a cough as he finally wrenches away, drool stringing down his chin. “You’ll make my lose my voice.”

Mat’s not really interested in hearing PL _talk,_ he’s decided, so he’s okay with that. A little vindictively, he sort of wants PL’s voice to go out, have his teammates give him that funny knowing look tomorrow about exactly what happened the night before. Mat can call him a cocksucker on the ice and it’ll be true, and he might do just that because there’s a terrible conviction winding its way through his brain and up his spine, that PL and Tito - _his Tito_ \- spent all summer on those boats tangled around each other. Mat wonders if PL sucked Tito’s dick in Denmark and Spain and France, fucked him all through Europe and then took those fucking Insta photos with their big smiles, still able to taste the come in their mouths, and he’s bitter about it.

He can’t leave; how would he explain it to Tito later on, that he face-fucked PL and then stormed out? Over some idea that he has _no_ evidence for, and not even any right to be angry about it? _Fuck._

PL’s staring at him expectantly now, so Mat releases his hair and waves vaguely in the direction of the nightstand. “Lube? Condoms?”

“Oh, yeah man,” PL says. Mat notes with a mean satisfaction that PL stumbles a little getting up, has to catch himself on the bed, presumably from being on his knees on the unforgiving floor for too long.

PL’s on his back while Mat gets him ready, a little more sloppy and careless than he otherwise might be, but PL seems to enjoy it. He has his forearm thrown over his face so only his open mouth is visible - just like Tito does - and he’s making these soft little _huh_ noises - just like Tito does - and he really, really likes when Mat twists his fingers and rubs hard. Just like fucking Tito does.

The sex is fine. Okay, it’s _good._ Pierre-Luc really is beautiful, and he crunches his torso up in a way that makes it feel like Mat is so, _so_ deep, and _unlike_ Tito he flushes a dark red, color creeping high on his cheeks. He’s not loud, just little whimpers and moans, and he sticks to English, just soft little _yeah_ s and _please_ s and _right there_ a few times. He’s even hotter when he comes, tossing his head back and curving his spine, arching into it with a moan. If Mat wasn’t so irrationally annoyed, he’d feel like a fucking porn star right now. Irritated or not, it’s still enough to come, and he pins PL’s shoulders down and fucks through his orgasm.

“Yeah,” PL whispers, and cups Mat’s jaw as they’re both catching their breath, and it’s too fucking intimate for him to do something like that but Mat doesn’t know how to make him stop, so he just lets it happen.

They clean up, and PL gets him a Gatorade, and he’s dressed again and he should just _leave_ but he’s an idiot and can’t help himself. “This was a nice change from me and Tito,” he says, because part of him just has to assert to PL that yeah, he and Tito are a thing - well...well not like a _thing,_ but they’re having sex goddamnit, and that should count for something.

“You and Tito?” PL frowns, looking confused.

“Yeah, I mean, he and I have been hooking up a lot of this season, so. Sometimes a change of pace is nice.”

“What?” PL’s expression now mirrors Mat’s internal feelings, sour and jealous. “You’re hooking up with Tito?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“That’s - you can’t - it’s not - “ PL splutters, and Mat watches him squirm, tries not to smirk. “That’s your teammate. That’s - that’s _Tito,_ that’s not cool.”

“Like you didn’t bang him all fuckin’ summer?” The moment the question is out of Mat’s mouth, he _knows,_ can see it written all over PL’s face. Whatever they did - whether they fucked or not - it wasn’t enough for Pierre-Luc. PL wants more.

“That’s none of your business,” PL says. “But this isn’t summer. Whatever, you wanna fuck up your team by hooking up with your teammate, that’s not my problem. It’s just _dumb.”_

“Oh, you gonna yell about this at Tito like you’re yelling at me? Tell Tito he’s fucking up the team? You don’t know shit. Get out of my face.” Mat stomps to the living room, PL hot on his heels while he grabs his shoes and slips them on.

PL throws him his coat, actually throws it, baseball pitcher-style, and it hits Mat in the chest with a _thunk._ “You’ve been a dick all night, and now you’re over here bitching me out? Fuck that,” PL says. “I don’t know what Tito sees in you except he’s gotta be nice ‘cause you’re on the same damn team. Get outta my house.”

“Gladly,” Mat snarls, and he doesn’t even bother putting on his coat before breezing out the door, which slams behind him. Only when he’s on the curb waiting for his Uber does he see the message from Tito. _how was it???_

 _Your friend’s kind of a dick,_ he sends back.

Tito wants to know details, of course, but there’s only so many Mat can offer without admitting something like _hey I think both me and PL are in love with your oblivious ass_ so he just sort of chalks it up to personality differences.

Their lines get matched up all night at the game, and there’s less than two minutes left in the second period when someone falls on top of him with a snarled French curse as they get tangled up by the boards. Of course it’s PL. There’s a few choice words, and Mat gives PL a little whack on the back of the legs as they skate away - nothing to injure, but something that will sting like a bitch - and PL turns and crosschecks him, and hell no that won’t do. They end up tussling by the benches, sticks thrown down, wrestling and snarling and cursing before the officials pull them apart.

“What was that about?” Tito asks in the locker room, eyes wide and anxious. “Did last night really go that bad?”

“It’s nothing, man,” Mat says, and claps him on the back, and tries to control his temper the rest of the game.

They lose badly - shut out - and everyone looks like they want to just sulk back to the hotel. Mat does too, but there’s something he needs to do first, because it’s very clear to him now that other people love Tito, too. And why wouldn’t they? Tito is - wonderful, amazing, _magnifique, extraordinaire,_ Mat wishes he had enough adjectives in French or English to explain it all. And Mat can either stay quiet and lose his chance to someone else, or…

Or.

“Tito,” he says quietly, gently pulling him aside. “Hey, can we walk together? I have something to tell you. It’s...important.”

“Always, buddy,” Tito says with a smile, his brightest smile that makes Mat feel like a sunny day inside.

He takes a deep breath.


End file.
